


"let your body rest - i promise, you'll be safe."

by eithne (campingzone)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Cuddling, Kisses, M/M, Overworking, Sickness, Support, Unintentional Selfharm, donghyuck has a forced mindset, donghyuck is VERY tired, donghyuck loves him back, fatigue, mark just helps him cope, mark loves lee donghyuck, please let him rest @ sm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 07:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campingzone/pseuds/eithne





	"let your body rest - i promise, you'll be safe."

BBRRRRP. BRRRRRP. BBRRRRRP. BRRRRP. BRRRRRRRP.

donghyuck grimaced at the god awful sound of his alarm, ignoring the way his body jolted in something almost related to fear. he could immediately feel dread drape itself over his head the second his consciousness began to load, and he resisted the urge to just snap his phone in half right then and there, digging his face firmly into his pillow to try and drown out the noise. he felt as if he'd just been knocked right out of heaven, especially considering he'd finally gotten a room to himself for once - something VERY rare when you shared a dorm with about 9 other people. taeyong had fought for an extra room just for him, and he was yet to repay the older; not that he ever could - not for such an amazing deed. he'd have to give him a whole palace and then some [which he deserved ANYWAY], and whilst he could probably afford it if he actually wanted to, he did still have to pay rent for the dorms and whatever else.

he knocked himself from his thoughts, reminded once more of the blaring screech in his ears. he borderline teared up, rolling over onto his side and slamming his hand down on his phone so hard that it rattled the bedside table. it was a wonder that the screen didn't smash upon contact, and he had to check twice to make sure that /hadn't/, because no doubt the managers would lose their shit if he broke it.  
he didn't like upsetting the managers. it really never did end well - especially not for his fatigued frame.

donghyuck, albeit very, very reluctantly, began to sit up, shivering immediately at the chill of the room. one glance at his phone told him it was barely 6 in the morning, and then a second of thought reminded him that he had practice /all day/ today. all day. 6 till 7, and not just pm. he almost peeled the skin off his head in that moment, and only barely managed to resist it, instead settling for just clutching weakly at his hair. he took a deep breath, tilting himself so that his dizziness would begin to fade, having sat up too quickly despite moving fairly slow. he couldn't really pinpoint why, but no doubt he'd figure it out later.

for now, he just needed to... slide back into schedule. god, he would've killed for a break, especially after the amount of concerts they'd [or, more specifically, /he'd/,] been doing for the past two weeks ish. the moment he stood up, he stumbled into his wardrobe with a quiet clunk, slight nausea engulfing his head. he was quite sure he must've been a bit paler than usual, his hands shaking naturally. this state was one he had gotten used to very early into his idol career - schedule comes first, you come last. fans come first, you come last. you come last, you come last, you don't matter, this isn't about you. this had been drilled into him from the second he'd become a trainee, and now saying /anything/ was about him was almost uncomfortable, because it was /never/ about him. it didn't /matter/ if he was tired, or if he was hungry, or if he wanted to just go to sleep and never wake up, because he /didn't fucking matter/ and he needed to wrap his head around that.

he could still remember his choreographer's shouts. donghyuck resisted the urge to just collapse next to his wardrobe, and instead took a deep breath into his wrist, slowly pulling his wardrobe door open and scanning his tired eyes over something to wear. he really couldn't be bothered to wear anything fancy, and just decided to throw on some joggers and a rather large hoodie, still shivering like a bitch even under the layers. you really underestimated how cold korean mornings were - especially with 'morning' meaning '5:49am'.

god, just kill him already.

\------

he had to say, he was a little bit confused by the time he'd reached the studio. no managers were bustling about, no one had been awake for breakfast, johnny didn't even reply to his text [very unusual], and very few of the staff had been inside the building. the sweetheart receptionist - haewon, was it? - had gave him a polite nod of the head and even offered a sip of her iced coffee [he'd never felt more blessed], but then he was off again, pushing the door of the studio open to find it completely, utterly, empty.

empty. absolutely empty. not a single soul in sight. did donghyuck have something wrong here, or?

no, surely not. schedule, schedule, schedule. he never forgot the schedule, it might'sve well have been /burned/ into him. today was practice today, and everyone else was just late. that must've been it - he wouldn't forget, not the schedule. and haewon hadn't asked him any questions when he'd walked past, so surely he must've been right, and everyone else was just late, right?

[or.. maybe they'd.. planned something. without him.]

donghyuck shook his head, trying to dismiss the immediate wave of distress and sadness the moment his brain even bothered to supply him with that suggestion. if he knew anything, it was that johnny hyung would /never/ leave him out of any plans, and neither would mark. and taeyong probably wouldn't, although, there was no guarantee. and..... well, johnny had done it once before, and- mark? well, he annoyed the hell out of mark, and everybody else, so, actually, maybe-

he cut himself off before he let his eyes water any further, and instead just wrenched the music controller off the side, sniffling quietly. he thanked the gods that this room was completely soundproof unless he turned the music up to an ungodly level, and he didn't really plan to do that today. he felt fragile, still shaking occasionally from the cold, the world swaying around him a little bit. it was just past 7 in the morning now, so it was getting warm-er, but not warm enough. and with the unholy air conditioning in this room, no doubt he'd stay this cold - but, maybe that was a good thing? he wasn't sure why, he was a little disorientated at the moment...

he blinked a couple times, regaining himself.

schedule, schedule, schedule. practice, dance, get better, it's not about you, it doesn't matter. what you feel doesn't matter, it isn't about you, it's about them, it's about us, about the money. 

donghyuck flicked simon says onto a low-ish volume, kicking his body drowsily into action. he didn't look very good, he realised, as he danced in front of the fullbody mirror. his eyebags were disgustingly prominent, and the fat on his hands was beginning to show, and his cheeks looked chubby from being so tired, and his hair was messy and he looked like the dead. quite frankly, he realised that he was very glad that no one was in here, actually, because anyone seeing him like this might've slapped him into overdrive. he ran a hand through said hair as he had a free moment in the dance [a horrible reminder that he really wasn't included that much, but this wasn't about him].

still not great. whatever.

donghyuck shivered again. he debated going back and asking haewon for the stick to reach the air conditioning, but decided against it. too much time would be wasted, and he had to follow the schedule. he had to, he didn't have a choice, he had to look better, had to dance better. maybe this would burn off some of the chub he'd been getting recently [or maybe that was just him?], or it would destress him by giving him something else to stress about other than how much he felt like he was going to be sick.  
honestly, he felt bad for mark, now he thought about it. the guy got migraines every day, even when they were practicing. it was at that moment that donghyuck realised he should stop complaining, because clearly almost everyone had it worse than him, and his feelings on this entire thing were literally irrelevant. he made a mental note to bring mark a tea from the reception office when he came back from the studio.

[although, maybe mark wouldn't want it... he wasn't here, after all. maybe he was out with the other members somewhere, and they'd be... taking..... his.... place. his place in helping mark. 'his' place? why was he trying to claim a place? he wasn't special, what the hell, lee donghyuck? what's your problem?]

he let out a heavy breath, finishing touch not very gracefully. it must've been 10 by now - he'd been thinking to himself for so long, watching himself in the mirror, sometimes wishing he could just cut the jiggle off his legs and his cheeks. typically, donghyuck wasn't a very self-conscious person, having quite the knowledge of how gorgeous he was. but- recently, everything had been getting too stressful. so much to do, so much to worry about, have to worry about everything because what if it isn't good enough? doing so much, have to balance it out, schedule, schedule, schedule. you're going out in front of everyone for hours per day per day, they'll be looking at you - there'll be pictures. have to look good, have to look better, /MUST/ look better by this date. 

donghyuck felt his legs shake, coming to the end of heartbreaker, the music getting steadily louder. he hadn't really been paying attention to the volume, just absentmindedly turning it up a little just each time the song changed. it distracted him a little from his thoughts - made it hard to think, because he was too busy thinking about /ohshitwhatcomesnextohgodifuckediup/ and /ohgodilookdisgusting/ and /godi..... want.../

/i just want mark..../

3pm - freezing. stronger came to an end, and donghyuck was promptly ignoring the tear now streaking down the right side of his face, his left eye glossy and wet with trapped tears. his bottom lip wobbled, but he turned it up louder, body screaming in pain. every movement of his leg tore at his thighs, and every jerk of his arm sent his shoulder rattling, and every twist of his neck sent an absolutely atrocious burning pain right the way through his temples. but he ignored it - ignored the way his lungs burnt, and the tears kept coming. 119 must've been deafening, because he couldn't even hear himself crying, but he didn't care, coming to a close on the floor. he just knelt for a moment, gulping in breaths, whispering /notenoughnotenoughnotenough/ to himself like a lifeline.

he was shaking. couldn't stop shaking. he was going to be sick, but there was nothing for him to vomit. he hadn't eaten - when had he last eaten? yesterday lunch? or was it wednesday's dinner? he really needed a drink...

donghyuck dry heaved onto the floor a couple times, sobbing to himself quietly over the sound of best friend. but, still, he clambered onto his feet, entire body burning, but he just turned the volume up louder, watching himself again as he redid the same move, again and again and again. he was so dizzy, but it needed perfecting, he had to perfect it, it had to be perfect. schedule schedule schedule, had to be perfect, because it wasn't about him and none of this was about him.

5:30pm. come on, donghyuck, he told himself as he collapsed down against the floor. his hands were so frail - pale, too, shaking as he gripped the bar on the side of the studio. his biceps ached so much that even gripping onto things hurt, and he couldn't breathe, too hot and too cold at the same time. he gagged to himself for a moment, but again, nothing happened, and instead it just shot a burst of pain across his abdomen. he cried out in pain, but it was silent compared to the music - one he couldn't even recognise. but, still, his body moved along to it anyway, despite the fact that he couldn't do the bare minimum of processing what it was. all he knew was that it wasn't good enough, and, oh dear god, he was so hungry, so thirsty.

the music was at full volume now, the heavy beats pulsing throgh the entire room. if he were any more sane, he would've realised that everyone outside could most definitely hear it, but, he wasn't, and so, he continued, the entire world spiralling out of control, black splodges crossing across his vision as he choked into his hoodie sleeves.

6:56pm, cold, cold, cold, too hot, too hot, too cold, can't breathe.

he was gasping in lungfuls of air into the mirror, only to blow hot air back at himself. he sobbed into the deafening music, shoulders spazzing and arms shaking uncontrollably as he clung onto the bar spread across the mirror. seeing himself up close made him realise how disgusting he looked - chubby cheeks, eyebrows not done, boring brown eyes, chapped lips. his bloodshot scleras far too prominent for his liking. it made him look even more puffed up than he already was, and he dry heaved into his wrist again, wishing he could just...

the black splodges appeared the second he gagged, and for a moment, he thought that might've been it. everything went black for a moment, and he could feel his legs trying to give way, and maybe he cried out for someone, anyone.

but, it went quiet, suddenly. not silent - he could hear his own desperate gasps, and his sobbing, but it was so distant from having his ears pumelled for 12 hours. there was something else, but it was too far away, and his eyesight was doing him any justice at the moment. it was all far too fuzzy, and all he knew was that he was choking on his own words, trying to breathe - catch some sort of breath.

something cold was pressed to his lips, and his unbelievably shaky hands came up to try and hold it, but they were simply grabbed by another, larger hand, and held so incredibly gently in place. the thing at his lips was tilted slightly, and donghyuck parted his lips borderline desperately, sobbing a little louder at the feeling of water on his tongue. he swallowed so fast he nearly choked again, but a soft hand on his neck and a thumb carressing it told him he should slow down, to which he listened obediently. something in him was screaming - telling him he looked disgusting, looked weak, and he'd disappointed whoever this was. they were touching him - all over his disgusting, sweaty neck and his chapped as fuck lips.

he tried to push them away, but it seemed they'd predicted it. the second his arms had extended, they'd been grabbed, and wrapped around someone's shoulders. two more hands slid underneath his burning thighs, and then he was lifted up into the air weirdly efforlessly, though that didn't mean he didn't panic about it. he squirmed in distaste, muttering something about being too heavy despite the fact that he was already wrapping his legs around their waist and clinging onto them tighter than before.

an unamused huff of breath shot a pang of recognition up donghyuck's spine, and the dread that filled him was awful. if this was jaehyun, or winwin, or any of his other hyungs, he might've been ok. but the fact that it was /mark/, mark fucking lee, mark lee who got migraines at 7pm and mark lee who was overworked and tired enough on his own-

he immediately tried to shove himself out of the older's grip, but a small shake of the head, a tighter grip and a kiss on his temple forced his body to relax. his tears still fell, but slower, now, and less noisily. he wasn't nearly as annoying as he had been, and instead remained completely silent when he was placed down onto a bed, sat upright for the time being. two fingers pried his mouth open, and at least 4 pills must've been placed in there, the water pressed up against his lips again. he swallowed them wordlessly, and then he was beng laid down onto his back, gentle kisses being pressed all over his eyes, cheeks and forehead during this process.

"what're you doing?" he managed to croak out, his ears still ringing, but not nearly as loud. mark gave him a borderline uninterested look, but if you knew him well enough, you'd know it was actually more of a soft gaze, and this was confirmed by the hand he came to rest on donghyuck's jaw. the younger very slowly came to rest his cold fingers atop the hand now there, and mark just smiled comfortingly, thinking for a momen.

"i've been trying to tell you it's not practice day for 15 minutes, donghyuck-ah. are you with me, now? can you hear me better?"

/it's not practice day./

just those words alone were enough to send him into a bit of a frenzy, and he cried out in something that might've replicated horror, only quietened when mark's arms pulled him up into a firm hug. he felt so destroyed, and to find out it was all for nothing made him feel like shit, face buried in the older's neck. mark just ran his fingers through the younger's hair, rocking them back and forth very slowly in an attempt to calm him down.

"hyuckie, come on." mark whispered, still running his hands through donghyuck's mess of a hairdo. "i know, hyuck-ah, i know, come on. let's get you to bed - those pills should've given you a decent vitamin intake for today, ok? i'll make you something to eat when you wake up."

"doesn't i-it hurt?" donghyuck interupted, but allowed the way mark pulled off his joggers, tossing them somewhere in the direction of the washpile. the way the older quipped an eyebrow up threw him off. "y-your head. it always hurts around this time, i- i was going to come and... bring y-you something."

mark chuckled.

"it's 10pm, hyuckie. my head only hurt because i couldn't find you, and you wouldn't answer your phone. i'm ok, it wasn't bad today, i promise."

donghyuck whimpered into hi- mark's pillow, clinging onto it for what might've been emotional support at this point. soft hands glided up and down his legs, and squished gently at his thighs, a soothing gesture that he hated mark knew. it made him feel loved, but also disgusted that mark could squish them in the first place, wishing that he looked a bit better.

mark must've noticed the look on his face, because suddenly a soft pair of lips were on his. not overwhelming - never overwhelming, not with mark. it threw him off, and made him feel bad from how dry his lips were, but familiar, and comforting. those gentle hands lifted off his legs, and came to rest on his face, the older's lips pulling his attention away from the third pillow being placed under his head. when mark did pull away, donghyuck's level of distress had visibly decreased [mark melted at how cute that was], and instead he just looked tired, nervously clinging onto his elbows.

mark just hummed in acknowledgement, before collapsing down next to the boy, pulling him closer by the waist. that hand continued to just carress up and down the skin there - pulling donghyuck closer to unconsciousness, despite his very quiet protests.

"no..."

"yes, donghyuck. let your body rest - i promise, you'll be safe."

he muffled his quiet whimper into mark's neck, but clung onto him dependantly, deciding not to argue. he could always argue tomorrow - when he didn't feel like he was going to die, and his muscles didn't feel like they were going to crawl out of his body and kill him single handedly.

"hyuck-ah?"

"...... hnngnjg?" he whined back, slowly wrapping his painful legs around mark's waist.

"will you talk to me tomorrow? about this?"

[no. no. no. no. no. no.]

"ok..."

"thank you, sunshine." mark whispered, pressing his lips against donghyuck's forehead. "and, hyuck-ah?"

"hah....?"

"i love you."

donghyuck paused for a moment.

"i love me, too."  
mark snorted into the quiet, giggling into the boy's cheek.

"go to sleep, love."  
"ok, i'm sorry."

mark smiled against his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

[he loves you, donghyuck. don't you ever forget it.]


End file.
